


Eternity

by EndoftheLine72



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-11-22 03:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoftheLine72/pseuds/EndoftheLine72
Summary: Chosen Trader answers a request for help from a Princess. Life happens.Could be anything in these stories, depending on what darts into my head.Adult Audiences only please.Don't like, click elsewhere.





	1. Chosen Trader

The street was reasonably quiet, even for a prosperous city like Mytholinius. “ _Must be the weather_ ”, he sniffed reflectively as he flicked the collar of his leather coat up more snugly around his neck in a token effort to keep out the drizzling rain that had plagued him all day. Still, he had made good time, having only left the elven kingdom two days earlier. He hadn’t even figured on going to Mytholinius. It was at least two days hard ride out of his way and neither he, nor his late father, had ever been what you would class as frequent traders with the large city. But when he had received a message from the royal horse trainer, someone he vaguely remembered from somewhere in his past, he had decided to take a slightly different route home.

Not that home had very much left for him now. His father was dead, his mother died long ago and he had no other living family in the area. Home, he guessed, was now wherever he decided to make camp for the evening. After a few more bends and corners, he reached the solid wooden stable, specifically built for travellers needing just the basics of shelter. Opening the door, he quietly led his horse into the warm, dry area, and selected a large stall with fresh hay for his traveling companion.

“There you go boy,” his soft voice soothed the large, black stallion, “Let’s get this off you.” He untied his saddle bags and removed the horse’s tack, setting them down for later cleaning. Taking off his damp coat and hanging it over the stall divider, the tall man retrieved a piece of scrap linen and a set of brushes, then went to work drying and brushing the dark coat until it gleamed dully in the torchlight. It might have taken a few candle marks but if there was one thing the tall, blond haired man took seriously, it was his responsibility to take care of his friend and companion. His last job before gathering his gear had been to fill the feed and water bin and with one last pat, he shouldered the gear and walked out towards the small inn nearby.

It wasn’t the best part of town, but strangely Johnathon felt more at ease here than he would have done up in some of the more affluent inns in the city. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford to stay in the better inns, he could, maybe it was because down here, people were just trying to make a living, to get through the winter, or just live to see another day. Up there, in their stuffy castles and royal inns, there would be politics, less caring about the people and more caring about how to use the people to their own ends.  He’d seen both levels of city life and he knew for sure which one he belonged in. Barging the heavy door open, Johnathon pushed his way inside the old inn.

His keen blue eyes scanned the interior briefly, taking in all the important information in one sweeping glance, barely noticeable to the occupants, but to him a vital protective mechanism that he always employed. Seeing nothing overtly amiss, he pushed forward and across the room to the wooden bar, patiently waiting until the stoutly bartender turned to face him.

“What can I do fe yer? Yer lookin fer a room?” The large man half grunted as he plonked another tankard of ale on the well-worn bar, wiping his face with a dirty cloth and taking in the tall, blond man before him. Standing well over 6ft tall, with a strongly built body that instantly told the barkeep this was a warrior who shouldn’t be trifled with, Johnathon merely met the man’s gaze with one of his own and nodded, retrieving his coin pouch from his belt and tossing three gold coins on the bar, “And stabling for my horse.”

“Top floor, last room.” The man swept the coins up, swiftly counting them and finding one more than he had planned to ask for anyway. “There’d be some stew on, if yer’d like it.”

Johnathon smiled and started towards the stairs, “Stew would be good.” He gave the barman a nod and continued up the stairs to the room. It wasn’t an overly big room, but at least it wasn’t as small as some of the rooms he had been in. And besides, it was clean, it was warm and more importantly it was dry. Johnathon crossed to the small table pressed against one wall and carefully set his saddlebags down. Next came the myriad of weapons and finally his damp shirt and boots.  Now that, his tired mind mused, felt good.

 

He padded barefoot outside in search of a bathing room which he found directly across from his own. Inside was a smallish tub, but it was certainly better than nothing. A few steaming buckets of hot water later and some serious scrubbing and he finally felt and looked clean.  In fact with a stomach full of surprisingly good stew, which he had found was waiting for him in his room when he returned, and clean, fresh, dry clothes, Johnathon was feeling quite satisfied with the day. 

After all, he’d made better than good time getting here, even with the rain and now he found his curiosity somewhat sparked by the note he’d received. A note from the royal horse trainer, that was rather vague to say the least and hadn’t really even been for him, but for his father. He swirled the last of the strong wine around in the cup he was cradling before gulping it down.

_Still wish you were here father_ , his mind sighed. _Guess that’s why I’m here instead of going home again. Living up to my responsibilities as the chosen trader’s son._ Placing the cup on the table, Johnathon stood and walked to rest against the windowsill, gazing out into the damp darkness. Being a chosen trader was not an easy thing, not by far. Certainly it was not helped by the fact that only a very select few even knew what a chosen trader was. A chosen trader was a trader between the higher order beings, such as the elves and the lower order beings, like the dwarfs, humans apparently, ranked somewhere in the middle. Only the chosen traders of each lower ranked race were allowed to interact with the higher order beings. The position was one of great trust and as such tended to be handed from father to son, and only after many years of apprenticeship and learning. When Johnathon’s father had died last fall, Johnathon had stepped into his father’s shoes and taken up the responsibility of becoming the middle realms next chosen trader. It was his job to maintain alliances, diplomacy and trade between the elves and dwarfs.

And it wasn’t an easy job.  

The elves tended to be very clannish and often fought between themselves, never to the point of out and out war, at least not yet, but often to the point where certain elven houses would be outcast or blacklisted from other houses and that sometimes created great economic and political disturbances which they seemed incapable of settling themselves.

The dwarfs on the other hand, stuck together like glue. They were as one society, all be it a very primal one. They worked with their hands and with the earth. They had no desire to improve nor were they very technological. They also possessed many of the raw materials that the elves craved. Since the dwarfs have an ingrown hatred of the elves, it often fell to the human traders, who were neutral due to the fact that both dwarven and elvish products were banned from the human realm to ensure that mankind could ever benefit from alliances with either the dwarfs or the elves. Humans were therefore selected to keep the peace and mediate between the two races.  Luckily Johnathon’s ancestors had done their jobs well. Trade agreements that had stood for centuries, still remained strong and so now he need only to keep an eye on proceedings, making sure they were as fair as they could possibly be to all parties concerned.  Gradually over the years, the elves had grown to trust the human line of traders and considered them valuable council, not to mention an excellent source of information which was shared freely. 

In fact, Johnathon had just settled a long running dispute over land boundaries between two royal houses on the elven island of Cryaniosis, and had some time left over to see the Elven King and his eldest daughter, who Johnathon had met many years ago when his father had taken him on his first trading trip.

He had been all of fourteen when his father had allowed him to tag along. That first trip had been so full of wonderment and curiosity and he had made many new friends, one of which was the beautiful eleven princess Guinevere. Slowly, their friendship had grown stronger over the years, and now, he counted her as one of a very select group of friends he would trust with his life and be willing to give his life for, if it came to that. 

 

All in all, Johnathon felt he was taking good care of the reputation and expectations built by his father and his father’s fathers before him. He was fair, he was honourable and he was loyal to those who earned it. “Don’t worry father, “He softly spoke to the dark sky, “I won’t let you down.”  He stood there a moment longer and watched the steady rain. He still missed his father, probably always would, he just hoped he could live to be half the man his father was. It was the main reason he decided to travel days out of the way to answer this message. Horse trainer wasn’t it? Royal one at that. Now, what? He mused as he laid down and readied to sleep, now what could the stuffy shirts have possibly wanted with his father. Probably some silly little prissy job or another, that they couldn’t be bothered getting their hands dirty for. Blue eyes closed, “Well,” he sighed, “Tomorrow I guess we’ll find out.”


	2. Pride

It was still dark as Johnathon walked along the quiet, almost deserted street, heading towards the lower entrance way that lead to the royal stables. It was interesting, he noticed, to see how the buildings and streets gradually changed the closer you got to the royal palace, even if it was only the stable yards. Buildings that were made of mainly timber and wood, slowly gave way to buildings made of stone. Streets that were once packed dirt, were now cobbled and neat. The cobblestone street he was walking along was slowly twisting and turning its way uphill towards the large palace. The palace itself was set into the rounded spur of a mountain, its extensive grounds surrounded by a large, fast flowing river that wound its way around the city and the palace to finally disappear down through a series of gorges, effectively splitting the mountain range. All in all, the city was, defensively speaking, very secure. The tall peaks and cliffs of the mountain range guarded the city’s back and wrapped around to also guard its flanks, while the front approach to the city was defended by large city walls built on the banks of a fast, deep river that twisted its way down through large flood plains and meadows. The city itself had been built off to one side, leaving the front forests and meadows as a sprawling palace garden.

Finally, Johnathon arrived at the large wooden doors that blocked the full width of the cobbled road. On both door fronts was a golden crest, bearing the markings of the king. Off to one side was a much smaller, single door, with a plain, solid iron ring hanging from its centre. A few smart raps later and the small sliding panel on the door slid open revealing a bearded man’s face.

“What’s yer business with the king?” the guard asked gruffly. Johnathon reached into his coat and retrieved the parchment message, handing it over and waiting patiently. The guard eyed him through the small opening for a few moments before Johnathon heard the door’s lock turn, finally opening and allowing him to step through. Inside, Johnathon found himself in a small, narrow open aired corridor, tall stone walls on each side, reaching three or four house levels high.  He followed the heavy set guard down the corridor, passing several closed wooden doors on the way until they came to a smaller corridor leading away from the direction they were traveling in. The guard knocked heavily on the door and was presently met by another, much younger man, apparently one of the master trainer’s apprentices.

“New trainer’s ere for Teldin” The older guard stated and handed the younger man the message, who took it and opened the door wider. He studied Johnathon for a few moments, glancing from the stained, yellow parchment in his hands to Johnathon’s quietly waiting form. It was unusual for the grizzled old horse master to send for someone for help, much less someone as young as this, the young guard having learned the hard way about not being vigilant on who he admitted into the inner keep. Still, the tall visitor did have a message bearing the horse master’s seal. No point in not being cautious all the same. “You’ll have to leave the sword. No weapons allowed in the inner keep.” Johnathon amiably agreed and handed over his sword tucked neatly in its leather scabbard that was strapped securely across his back. There was no point in starting an argument with the guard, not when Johnathon had what equated to a small armoury hidden safely out of sight on his person.   “Take care of that.” He stated as he handed the long blade to the guard, “I’ll expect it back when I’m done.”

The old guard simply nodded, tucked the scabbard under his arm before leaving to return to his post. Johnathon watched him go, silently recording the man’s features in his mind, “ _Observation is_ ,” his father’s words echoed in his memory, “ _your greatest ally and your strongest weapon.”_ Johnathon turned his attention back to the young man waiting at his side. 

“Teldin’ll be mighty pleased to see you,” He commented, motioning for the tall man to follow him as he began walking down the small ally, “ he’s been tryin to tame that mongrel horse for over a week and he’s not been makin no damn headway, been grouchier than bear with a sore head he has.”  The younger man guided Johnathon around a few more corners, finally walking through an archway that lead them into a busy courtyard that was bustling with workers. Some were busy carefully preparing skins for tanning, others occupied themselves cleaning and rubbing wax into the various pieces of tack. Eyes lifted from their work as Johnathon was lead through the workers towards the back of the courtyard.  Most were wondering what this poor man had done to warrant being taken to the Horse Master’s quarters. Teldin, while fair and generally respectful to his workers, also had a reputation for demanding high quality work from those in his charge. He didn’t suffer fools and expected the best. Johnathon noted that most eyes found other, suddenly more interesting things to look at when his own gaze met theirs. People seemed hard working, he realized, looking around. Their body language told him that they were here because they wanted to be here, not because they were being forced. Not that he would have expected anything less from a man his father thought so highly of, but still, one never knew exactly what went on in the depths and hidden quarters of a royal keep.

They continued on beneath the large archway leading them into a small stonewalled recess, ending in a solid looking door. After a stout rap on its wooden surface, the door swung open and Johnathon was ushered into an even smaller, very sparely furnished room and where he was told to wait until the horse master had been informed of his presence. In fact, the only furniture in the room were several uncomfortable looking chairs lined against one wall, a large table, positioned somewhat in the centre of the room towards the back, and a door, off to one side, in the western most corner, which the guard disappeared through.

Walking over to one wall, Johnathon looked out of the triangular window that had been cut into the wall. He found himself looking into a large courtyard, crisscrossed with wooden log fences, creating several horse yards, obviously used for the training of the royal stable horses. Looking passed the nearby yards, to a much larger yard, off to the right a little, Johnathon could see a group of men. Some were sitting idly by on wooden rails watching, others were standing, eagerly watching something. Johnathon squinted his eyes and was about to investigate further when the inner door opened and large, slightly rounded man entered. He was almost as tall as Johnathon, his face almost obscured by a dark bushy beard. He paused a moment, silently studying the visitor who was standing casually beside the window before resuming his path. “My men tell me you wish to see the royal horse trainer?”  His voice was deep and rumbly and held more than a subtle note of apprehension. _Always a test_. Johnathon internally sighed, “Yes. I received a message requesting my presence here.” 

Dark eyes narrowed slightly and the body before him visible tensed, “You received a message?” Bearing the royal seal?”

“That’s right.” Words had barely left his mouth when the bulky man before him surged forward, pushing him against the hard stone wall with a muted thud.

“You sir, are a liar.” He growled into Johnathon’s face, “I sent for the trainer Chase” He forcibly shoved Johnathon’s body against the wall, “Not for some green, wet behind ears, road thief!”

 _Road thief ? Alright, enough of this_.

Twisting his body and shoving back, Johnathon momentarily threw the larger man off balance, causing them both to tumble to the floor.  In seconds Johnathon had pinned him to the ground, and his struggling abruptly stopped when the sharp blade of a knife pressed against the soft tissue of his unprotected throat. “It is you, Sir, who is mistaken.” He pressed the tip of the knife a little closer, “My name is Chase, and I did receive your message.” He watched as the larger man swallowed between heaving breaths, “You are not Atean Chase. You are not the man I sent for, and you may kill me now, but you will never leave this city alive.” He ground out between clenched teeth, before tilting his head back and presenting his neck to the gleaming blade, defeated and ready to die, but not without courage and honour.

_Brave._

_Stupid, but brave,_ Johnathon thought, knowing this is exactly the type of man his father would have been befriended. “You’re right, I’m not Atean Chase.” The blond man stated as he removed the knife and returned it to it slim scabbard tucked neatly behind his left bracer. “My name is Johnathon Chase.”  He stood offering the prone man his hand, “Atean’s son.” Dark eyes regarded him for a few breaths and Johnathon could almost see the older man searching through his memories for any evidence of Johnathon’s existence. Apparently he found some and Johnathon felt the strong grip of a large hand grasp his forearm, his offer accepted.

“Name’s Teldin. I’m the royal trainer around here,” He stated, “Your father once spoke of you.” He tugged his light leather vest back in place, “Many years ago, you were but a small boy then. Where is your father? I had hoped to see him again after these long years past.”

“My father is dead. He died this summer just gone.” Johnathon watched the large man’s face intently, seeing an echo of loss flash briefly across it at the news of his father death. Indeed, it did seem that the large man was telling the truth, though Johnathon certainly had no recollection of his father ever mentioning any acquaintances in Mytholinius, but then again, his father hadn’t been one to throw information around recklessly.

“I am sorry to hear that.” Teldin walked over to a small table off to one side and began scribing a note on a piece of parchment, apparently left there for exactly this purpose. “He was a good man, and a good friend.” He held the finished note out in front of him, “Give this note to the guards at the inner keep gates and they will arrange for your payment. I am sorry to have wasted your time in calling you here, I would not have done so had I known about your father.” Johnathon walked across the room to stand facing the large man and accepted the parchment. He had not expected the large man who had been so angry only moments before to now be so cordial towards him. It was too late now, Johnathon’s curiosity had been well and truly piqued. First by the note, and now by Teldin’s remark about knowing his father and evidently thinking whatever chore he had summoned Johnathon's father to do, was something Johnathon simply could not handle and was to be shown the door with 25 dinars worth of the kings thanks. There was no walking away now until he’d found out just what exactly was going on.

“Teldin? Can I ask why you sent for my father? Perhaps it is a matter that I can help with in his stead?” Clever blue eyes studied the man, searching for any clues to the answers he was now seeking. The larger man drew a short breath, as if he were about to speak, but then his jaws clicked shut as his wary mind evidently overruled his tongue. _So whatever it is, it’s not easy for this man to talk to anyone about_ , the chosen trader’s analytical mind noted. In his experience there were only three things that caused that reaction from most men. It was generally either matters of love, or money, or of pride. Since the large man didn’t appear to have a problem with money, considering he’d just gifted Johnathon 25 dinars for a service he never even tendered, that only left the other two. Love?  Somehow, Johnathon doubted that love would have been a matter needing his father’s intervention. That only left one thing. Pride.

“It is nothing you can help with Johnathon Chase. I was needing your father’s particular brand of genius to help me with a small issue. Pay it no mind.” He held out his arm, “Good luck to you, son of Atean.” He was going to get nowhere fast with the trainer, Johnathon selected a different tack. He reached out and grasped the large man’s forearm. “And to you Teldin. I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.” The sound of raised voices and then laughing drifted through the window and was shortly followed by the pounding of running feet as the inner was knocked open by a young man, completely covered in mud, straw and other brown globs of something unidentifiable. “Teldin Sir,” He said on an uneven breath before his eyes flicked to Johnathon and he realised he had just interrupted one of his master trainer’s meetings. ”Um, excuse me sir. I was, that is..”

“Oh for Zeus’ sake boy, just spit the damned thing out.” Teldin’s patience had apparently worn thin. “Sir, Master Bresdan says he thinks you had better come down to the yards Sir.” The boy’s eyes flicked nervously between Johnathon and Teldin, “There’s been a slight accident Sir.”

“What have they managed to do now!” The large man growled as he began to walk quickly towards the door, seemingly forgetting Johnathon’s presence until he got level with jam. “Good day to you Master Chase. I trust you can see your own way out.” Teldin tossed over his shoulder before hurrying through the door and out Johnathon’s sight.

“Indeed I could,” Johnathon murmured to the empty space, “If I was leaving.”  Quietly Johnathon stepped through the doorway and followed the winding steps as they spiralled rather tightly down, finally coming out into the large open space he had seen from the window above. There was a crowd of what looked to Johnathon, of stable hands, all standing around a large fenced area. Teldin had separated the crowd a little and was bellowing at a much younger man inside the area. “Get that rope on him! And the rest of yer, get back to yer work!” The crowd swiftly began to dissipate, evidently Teldin’s word was followed once it was given.

Now Johnathon could see what the fuss was about. Inside the area was large black stallion, probably about as wild as Johnathon had ever seen. And the animal was huge. He stood at least two hands taller than Johnathon and was currently dwarfing the smaller man trying, without much success, to place a halter rope around his wild neck. Another man was slowly lifting himself off the ground. He was dirty and covered with the loose soil that the massive animal’s sharp hooves had torn up. He was also missing various parts of his clothing, his shirt was definitely in tatters and he seemed to be cradling one arm. He slowly stumbled passed Johnathon.

“Splint that, or it’ll mend bad,” Johnathon commented, watching as the clearly defeated man looked up.

“Stupid beast. Ain’t got no right to be here in the first place! Ain’t no way Teldin’s ever gonna tame that mongrel. Royal wishes be damned!”  He scowled as he stalked off, presumably towards the healer. _So, this is why my father had been summoned_. The puzzle pieces fell into place. His father had been reasonably well known for his skills in this area, skills that had been passed down to the blond man very early on his life. The animal reared up on its hind legs and let out a tremendous defiant shriek, forcing the man back into one corner of the area.  Rope or no rope, this animal had no intention of being tamed this day.

“Bresdan! Move will it yer! Get that rope on him before he done goes and kill’s yer!” Teldin bellowed climbing up on the rail to get closer to the situation.

“I’m tryin’ Teldin! Damn animal’s angrier than a hive of bees!”  The horse tossed his head back and forth, snorting angrily and stamping irritatingly from foot to foot. Bresden dared to take a step closer the animal, holding the rope steadily in one hand, trying to get close enough to rope the animal. _How he thinks he’s going to stop him once he gets him roped I’ve no idea,_ Johnathon’s mind added. Suddenly the animal charged and Bresden, knowing when he was beaten dropped the rope and stumbled backward, half falling, half climbing through the rails, landing heavily on his backside safe on the outside. Teldin roared with laughter at the hapless man, “Bresdan, stop falling over yer own feet, yer actin like a one of them wet behind the ears stableboys.” Bresden slowly gathered himself to his feet, dusting himself off and scowling at the larger man, “That damn animal,” He growled slowly stepping back towards the stall, “Is gonna be headed for the chop house if he does that one more time!” Warily Bresdan approached the stall, only to have the large beast rear up on his back legs, tossing his head and flicking up mud and dirt as his large hooves came down onto the churned up earth, effectively stopping Bresdan dead in his tracks. “That’s it Teldin!” He threw the rope down and turned to face the older trainer, “Won’t even let anyone get near it. This is bloody pointless! There is no way that beast is ever gonna be trained enough for the princess! No Gods be damned way.”

Teldin stalked over and picked up the rope, “Give me that boy,” He said, stepping up onto the railing, “Horse just needs to be shown who’s boss is all. Been training horses all me life.” Teldin confidently jumped down into the training area, rope held lightly in his large hand, “This one ain’t gonna be no different. Now, get back there yer mongrel” Teldin raised his voice at the angry beast and edged closer, lifting the woven noose up in readiness. But the dark horse was having none of that, again he charged the larger man, sharp teeth snapping at the unprotected neck of his would be assailant. Teldin luckily saw the animal moving and just managed to dodge what would have been a very dangerous bite. As it was the horse managed to tear a large section of his sleeve away. “Argh.. ye damn bastard, give me the me whip Bresdan!”  Teldin yelled. “I’ve about had enough of this!”


	3. Eldest

“So is he coming or not?” The pretty young princess excitedly asked her eldest sister, who was sitting quietly at a well made wooden desk reading a recently delivered parchment scroll. “Is who coming Tess?” Katherine absently answered, still reading the contents of the scroll and not really paying too much attention of her youngest sister. “Who do you think? Prince Orin of course! Does it say if he’s attending the ball?” Tess tried to wait patiently when her sister didn’t answer, really she did, but the Grand Ball was in eight days and Tess was most interested to see who would be attending it. “Kate!” She whined, “Is he coming or not?” Having finally gotten to the end of the scroll, Kate looked up, her dark hair catching the soft morning sunlight as it streamed through the windows behind her, “Tess, has it ever occurred to you that I don’t really care one way or another who’s coming to this ridiculous ball.“   
“Oh come on, it won’t be that bad, Kate, better than one of those stuffy council meetings that Father insists on dragging us all to.” Tess made a face of disgust, “Now those really are boring.” That brought a smile to her elder sister’s face, “One way to look at it I suppose. And you should count yourself lucky. You only have to go to the general meetings. I’m forced to attend every single one of them, not just the general ones.”   
Tess smiled and tossed back her long blond hair, “Sometimes it’s great not be the oldest.” She got up from her padded seat and strolled over to stand behind her sister, “So, what did the parchment say anyway?” Katherine shrugged non-committedly, “There’s been some storms to the south, a small battle to far north, the western fields need to be totally resewn and..”   
“Kate! Don’t be such a tease!” the blond headed princess whined, pouting at the annoyance of her elder sibling, “Is Prince Orin coming? “ Katherine just smiled and shook her head, “Yes Prince Orin will be attending the ball. And so, it appears will Princes Stephen, Theron and Evander.” Kate turned her soft blue eyes to look up at her sister, “So that should make you and Axelia happy.” A broad smile graced Tess’s gentle features, her face was slightly rounder than her older sisters, still holding the last gentle traces of an almost passed adolescence. “I am happy, thank you very much, it’s been so long since anyone remotely interesting visited and besides,” She grinned as she seated herself on the corner of the desk, “Aren’t you even a little pleased that Stephen will be attending? The court was gossiping for weeks about you and Stephen after his last visit.”   
The Kingdom of Mytholinius had been blessed or cursed, depending on how you chose to look at, with four very charming and very beautiful princess, but, much to the King’s disappointment and vexation, no sons. Katherine was the eldest, followed by Alexia, Iona and Tess, a mere four years separating eldest from youngest. Now, the girls were all getting to the age deemed appropriate for marriage, particularly Katherine, as the eldest and expected to marry a suitable future king, as such any courtship, potential or otherwise, seemed to be open season for the more gossipy members of nobility. “As I recall, the court was far more interested in whatever trouble Axelia managed to get herself into with Theron than anything to do with me or Prince Stephen for that matter.” Kate retorted as she pushed her chair back, going to stand by the large open window that looked out over the stables and further still to the sprawling lowlands of the royal forest. She hated talking about this particular subject. It seemed to be always rising its ugly head at every turn. The court, her sisters, her family, basically the entire kingdom, was almost expecting her and Stephen to wed. Her father most of all. And, she guessed, logically it made sense. Stephen was the eldest of his siblings, like she was, his kingdom bordered hers, he was used to the position and burden of high court, he was handsome, he was charming and over the years they had developed at strong friendship, it all made perfect sense.   
Almost.   
“Well, no matter what they are talking about,” Tess said joining her sister at the window, “It’ll still be fun to see everyone again.” Kate just smiled a little and turned to watch what looked like a small gathering down in the stable area, “Wonder what that’s about?” She raised a slim finger to indicate the direction to her younger sister, effectively changing the subject and the focus of attention without so much as a sideways glance from Tess who was now squinting slightly trying to discern what her sister was looking at. “Who knows what goes on down there,” Tess turned and walked from the windows, seemingly already bored, now that the subject had changed to something other than courting, “Horses, hot iron and smelly men,” She screwed her nose up. Kate chuckled to herself. The stables were most definitely not any of her younger sibling’s thing. Tess was only really interested in romance, high court life and gossip. Axelia was only interested in doing the exact opposite of whatever anyone wanted her to do and most of the time, was a constant source of worry for both her parents, her sister seemingly not having a single shred of responsibility, royal or otherwise. Iona on the other hand, seemed content to just float along, usually following Axelia into whatever harebrained idea she had going on at the time. So Katherine had really no choice but to be the sensible, responsible one. Someone had to be. It had been drummed into her since infancy when, even then, it had been blatantly obvious that if the King’s line was to continue, Katherine would have to feature in it, one way or the other. Sometimes, Katherine, reflected quietly, birthright was not all it was cracked up to be.   
“Not all of them are smelly.” They both turned to greet the owner of the voice, watching as Axelia sauntered across the room and sat down on the long couch, spreading her arms out across it’s cushioned back, “Least the stableman I called on last night wasn’t.” She grinned at her two siblings, pleased with the shocked look she had managed from her young sister and the set of rolled eyes from Katherine.  
“You didn’t?” Tess asked wide-eyed and already perfectly entranced by the mere possibility of scandal, “Father will have kittens if he find outs.” Axelia simply grinned as she inspected her fingernails, “What father doesn’t know, can’t hurt him. Besides,” She stood and joined her siblings at the window, “What’s a girl expected to do, be locked away in the royal chambers all night, alone?”   
“What your expected to do is at least act with some modicum of responsibility once in a while.” Kate’s blue eyes turned serious, “What you do can affect all of us, maybe you should think about that sometimes Axelia.” It was Axelia’s turn to roll her equally blue eyes and toss her long chestnut hair over her shoulder, “You need to get out more Katherine, you’re beginning to sound like one of father’s court advisers.” Kate, refusing to be drawn into another one of Axelia arguments, audibly exhaled and returned to watch the gathering commotion down in the courtyard. The sharp sound of a whip cracking drifted to her ears and she watched as the small crowd seemed to collectively all take a step back. “What on earth is going on down there?” She squinted, trying to discern the faces. Axelia, seeing that her sister wasn’t going to bite and become involved in an argument, followed her sister’s gaze to the courtyard.  
“Who is that?” Axelia asked with her typical amount of sexual innuendo.   
“Who is who?” Kate snapped exasperated turning her head to watching as a tallish, well built man walked across the courtyard to stand, deliberately isolated at the edge of the gathering.   
“Him.” Axelia raised her eyebrow and licked her lips. “I’m going to find out who he is.” She started towards the door, “And if he looks as good up close.” She smirked as she slipped out the door.  
“Wait Axe,” Tess looked back, almost apologetically at Kate, “I’ll come with you.” She said softly, closing the door behind her and leaving Katherine alone and shaking her head. One is as bad as the other. It was probably just as well that she was the one responsible for the kingdom’s future. She simply couldn’t imagine either of those two stepping forward to take her place. Sometimes though, Kate did wish, just for a little while that her shoulders could be free of the burden on leadership. A sharp crack sounded from the courtyard below and she watched as a large man stood alone and cracked the whip repeatedly at the wild animal, gradually forcing it back towards the end of the yard. But somehow, without her conscious thought her gaze drifted to the tall stranger, standing in the steadily emptying courtyard, as workers resumed their assigned tasks. She had to admit, even from this distance, she could see his athletic build and well proportioned body.  
Not that she was really looking. A liaison with anyone from the lower court, good looking body or not, was not an idea she could even entertain. She wasn’t allowed to. Besides, he’d probably turn out to be dog ugly face to face, she mused, or worse, have the personality of a sewer rat or some equally disgusting creature. And, she sighed and glanced over at the pile of court scrolls she had to read before this afternoon’s council, she had work to do. She gave the tall stranger one last glance and turned her back. Sometimes, she reflected, it truly sucked to be eldest.


	4. Snobs

At this point, Johnathon was amusing himself deciding who was the more angry, horse or would be tamer. One look at that whip and horse decided he was through messing around, now he was serious about getting away from these annoying humans. He lashed out at anything, even the sturdy wooden rails of the stall, kicking and charging. Teldin, his ire well and truly awoken now, cracked the whip, it’s sharp sound reverberating through the air. Teldin raised his arm and was about to release another viscous snap of the long leather whip, but the wild animal saw it coming and charged the large man, fully intent on putting a stop to the harsh whipping sound that had always meant nothing but pain to him. Luckily, Teldin saw him coming and moved swiftly to avoid his snapping teeth and flashing hooves, but the churned up earth fouled the trainer’s footing and before he knew what was happening, the ground was rushing up to meet him as he fell headlong towards the charging animal. Seeing the older trainer go down, Johnathon took off, sprinting across the yard and clearing the fence sliprails with effortless ease. His boots scattered bits of torn earth and mud as he landed, placing himself between Teldin and the charging animal.   
The horse, not expecting a new form to just appear in front of him, shied to one side, narrowly missing Teldin as it thundered past, it’s huge body coming so close to Johnathon, that he was forced to spin around with the blow or have his shoulder knocked out of it’s joint. Teldin slowly gathered his wits and half crawled, half staggered to his feet, watching somewhat amazed as Johnathon slowly advanced, pace after careful pace, on the restless animal that skittered nervously back and forth at the end of the yard, it sides heaving and painted with sweat. He kept his voice low and even, his arms hanging loosely by his sides as he moved slowly toward his quarry. Teldin knew better than to interfere and as the scene unfolded before him, he could plainly see such a reflection of his long-time friend, Atean Chase in this young man that it removed any doubt what so ever that Johnathon wasn’t Atean’s son, even more so as he continued to watch the blond man steadily calming the stallion, stopping, just a few paces from its tossing head, speaking in gentle, soft tones, his words far more effective than any whip could ever have been. “Easy now,” He crooned, “No more whips.” He reached his hand out slowly, getting it within a body’s width of the large black head as it snorted and tossed. Johnathon stood still, calmed and relaxed, his gentle voice never stopping and gradually, the dark head turned and liquid brown eyes rolled to meet far more patient and understanding ones.  
It was as if something passed between man and beast, a mutual understanding, and before Teldin’s eyes, the large hooves that had been only moments before were slashing and raking at him with vicious ferocity, now tentatively moved towards Johnathon, stopping only when the blond man’s hands were within touching distance of his large furry jaw. Johnathon let his fingers curl to touch the stallion’s muzzle, his blue eyes locked with the animals, his strong will prevailing. The dark head tossed now and again as his nostrils gradually become accustomed to the scent of the man. Humans were never to be trusted, he’d learnt that hard way, but somehow, something in this man’s scent and in those blue eyes, something older than the both of them, settled the stallion’s restlessness. This man was different, a small silent voice whispered into the horses very soul, this one is safe. “There now, easy boy.” Johnathon watched a dark ear twitch in response to his deep, smooth voice. “Just one more thing and we’ll get you out of this mud.” He turned and walked steadily, retrieving the rope halter from the rail. He could sense the nervousness in the large animal as he spied the rope, so he simply draped the halter over his shoulder and walked carefully back. He took the halter loosely in one hand and let the horse smell it as he rubbed it gently over the it’s jaw and neck, gradually letting his new found friend become accustomed to the course, scratchiness of its weave. Then the rope halter was slid around his dark neck and left hanging, before his intelligent mind really even had the presence to protest. It wasn’t so bad, he thought, already deciding that it was just easier to comply with the strange smelling human. “Teldin?” Johnathon turned to ask the burly trainer where he wanted the stallion stabled and was slightly surprised to see the large man silently studying him with a strange look on his face. Without a word, the trainer lifted his hand and pointed to the sturdy well built, double doors at the far end of the courtyard. Johnathon nodded and gripped the halter loosely. “Come on my friend,” He murmured gently motioning the large animal forward, “Let’s get out of this mud and get you clean.” Teldin’s jaw dropped as the large black stallion obediently followed the blond man across the square and through the now opened door. “Good gods,” Bresdan commented, “Damn animal was crazy mad,” He climbed up on the rail beside Teldin, “Damnest thing I ever saw, ain’t never seen the likes of that before.”   
“I have.” The horse master replied, “A long time ago.” Teldin jumped down from the railing, “Find quarters in the keep Bresdan, we’ve got ourselves a new trainer.”   
It was almost dark by the time Johnathon had finally finished cleaning and brushing the large stallion. Of course, a good deal of his time had been spent further gaining the animal’s trust. Once you figured out where the stallion was coming from or more importantly where he had been, and worked with him rather than against him, he wasn’t so bad. “You’re not so tough are you?” the blond man asked the stallion, “Just had enough of idiot people who don’t understand.” He scratched the large jaw, silently pleased when the stallion turned his head into the soothing touch. He gave the stallion one last pat, checked the feed bin and gathered up his brush kit. He’d go find Teldin he supposed and offer to stay on long enough to train the animal. It wouldn’t take that long, he guessed maybe a week or two, by then he’d have the stallion at least to a stage that even a half-assed trainer like that Bresdan character would be able to finish. He walked out into the now quiet courtyard, the sun casting long shadows as it slowly began to sink beneath the forest tree line that Johnathon could just make out over the outer stone wall of the keep. It was a thick heavily treed area that was obviously part of the inner royal palace, meant only for use by those in the royal court. He continued on across the square and up the narrow stone steps, knocking politely on the heavy wooden door. “Come.” Teldin’s deep voice sounded. The older man was seated at his desk, writing on several scrolls, which he looked up from as Johnathon approached. “Ah, young Chase,” He motioned Johnathon towards him, “Ye get that nasty beast settled ?” Johnathon nodded, “He seems calm enough now.” Teldin signed one last piece of parchment and then stood. “Here.” He said, handing the note to the blond man, “You’ll be needin this to get back into the keep.”   
Johnathon raised an eyebrow in question as he reached out to take the note, “Get back into the keep?” he asked quietly. Teldin’s darker eyes lifted to meet very clever blue ones, “Aye.” Teldin stated, “That beast is to be a gift. And I’ll be needing someone to train him.” Teldin stepped out from behind his desk and walked across to stand at the courtyard window, “Ain’t stupid enough not to realise that there’s more than a drop or two of Atean’s blood running through your veins.” He drew a small pipe from his breast pocket and begin packing it with dark brown moss, “Saw your father quiet an animal like that once.” Teldin lit the pipe from a nearby candle and drew a healthy breath, “You share his gift?” He turned his head to eye the blond man.   
“My father taught me many things Teldin.” The older trainer considered that for a moment and then nodded, blowing out a puff a pungent smoke, “That beast you calmed today is a very important gift for the Princess Katherine. Won’t do not to have it trained real good for her. Since you seem to be the only one that damn animal will let near it without rippin their shirt off, I was thinkin’ that, if you’d be having the mind to..” His dark eyes dropped to the floor, unaccustomed to having to ask any man for help. Johnathon smiled to himself at Teldin’s round about way of asking him for help, “I’ve a mind to, Teldin.” he stated quietly, deciding to let the older man off the hook, “I’ll stay until the horse is trained, or at the very worst trained, well enough for your trainers to take over.” He held out his hand to the older man, “Deal?” Teldin smiled broadly and shoved the pipe between his teeth, puffing furiously, “Deal, young Chase.” He said shaking Johnathon’s hand, “That there note will get you back into the keep, anytime you want. I’ve arranged quarters for you here so you can be stayin inside if you’d be wanting it.”   
“Thank-you Teldin. It’d probably be better if I stayed in the keep, somewhere close, so I don’t waste time.” Teldin nodded, “Aye, sides, damn horse will be tearing the shirts offen anyone else. It’ll be good to have some decent folk around, what with all the stuffed shirts arriving in a few days for this damned ball.” Teldin reached into his pocket and pulled out a small yellow token, “This here will get your blade back and it’ll let you carry em inside the keep.” His dark eyes turned serious now, “But you be minding them real close. I don’t want no accidents,” He eyed the younger man, “And I don’t want no fighting either young Chase. Don’t normally be letting traders and the like carry a blade in the keep.” Johnathon met the older man’s gaze, “I assure you Teldin, you won’t get any trouble from me, I guarantee it.” A statement which the blond man found a little moot at this point, since Johnathon had on his very person at least four deadly blades, one of which Teldin had already been intimately introduced to and looking at the burly trainer, Johnathon knew Teldin understood that the blond man would never have entered any keep, royal note or not, unarmed. “Very well then,” Teldin stated, “Just be sure and stick to training that beast and keep out of the courts way and I’m sure you’ll do fine.”  
“I’m sure I will,Teldin, but for now, I’m going to go and gather my things from the inn and get settled in here. I want to start training in full tomorrow.” Johnathon walked to the door, “I have a horse that’ll need stabling.” The larger man waved his hand, “Of course, of course, use the stall next to that beast.”   
“Thank-you Teldin.” Johnathon turned to leave, “One more thing young Chase,” Teldin called, “Remember your place in the keep. You needn’t be following your father’s tendency and messsin around in the court about anything.” Johnathon nodded quietly and walked out the door, closing it behind him. He knew his place, and it certainly wasn’t in any court. Courts that were full of artificial, backstabbing, gossiping, spoiled, money indulged people. No, Teldin certainly didn’t have anything to worry about. There was absolutely no chance of him ever voluntarily mixing with those snobs.  
No way.   
Not even.   
They could keep their stuffy court and all that went along with it as far as Johnathon Chase was concerned.


	5. Adventure

At last her day was almost over. She’d left the quiet solitude of her upstairs reading room around midday, when she’d been summoned to the court chamber for the afternoon session. She’d had to sit one seat over from her father and alongside the high council advisor, Edric, who Kate secretly thought had devoted his life to making hers as boring and court structured as humanly possible. There she’d had to listen to over twenty new proposals from outlying kingdom states about changes they wanted to their farming laws. It was, Kate reflected as she climbed the stairs that led to her chambers, one of the more boring and totally uninteresting tasks she’d ever had to do. Maybe she should have been paying more attention to these matters, but she just couldn’t find it within her to force herself to look, act or even think like she was remotely interested in how many extra pigs the northern range farmers were planning to sty this season.   
She walked into her chamber, already graced with a gently burning fire and several lit candles. Father had been in one of his moods tonight at their evening meal, made considerably worse by the fact that Axelia was nowhere to be found, in the keep or otherwise. Katherine had bravely made up some inane excuse to try and explain her younger sister’s absence, and while her father had eventually dropped the subject, Kate had been forced to endure a lecture about her responsibilities and the responsibilities of her sisters to the royal court. Honestly, Kate was growing rather tired of always copping the consequences of Axelia’s inappropriate actions. As it was, she’d sent her best personal advisor out to track down Axelia. He hadn’t returned as of yet but somehow Kate’s intuition had told her that sooner or later, he would track Axelia down, after all, this wasn’t the first time Axelia had disappeared for the night. It most certainly wasn’t the first time she’d ever missed one of their nightly dinner’s with her parents, and it certainly wasn’t the first time Kate had been forced to manufacture some plausible explanation as to her mysteriously absent sister whereabouts. She’d probably come sauntering in sometime tomorrow, generally in the afternoon, perfectly happy with the chaos she’d caused. There was a soft knock at her inner door which opened and admitted the smaller form of her younger sister Iona. “Hello Kate.” Iona’s quiet, almost sing-song voice reached her, “Any word yet?”   
“No. Nothing yet.” Kate sighed as she sat down in one of the large plush armchairs by the fire, “I’ve sent Leyton out to see if he can find out where she is.” Iona was the second youngest of the four royal princess and distinctly more like Katherine than either Tess or Axelia. Iona was quiet and tended to stick to her own interests, as Kate preferred to do, but unlike Iona, Kate had from a very young age, been forced to demonstrate a much more public front. Whereas Iona would often be found sitting alone in the royal gardens reading some scroll that detailed some epic fanciful story or another, Kate would be forced to sit in on the royal council. Iona was a dreamer and Kate often wished that sometimes she could sneak away and just drift off into one of Iona’s fantasy worlds where everything was perfectly ideal and easily solved. But then at times, like now, Iona would come back to reality and seek her older sibling out and offering support, showing some interest in the heavy responsibilities that were ever present on her older sister’s slender shoulders.   
“Do you think he’ll find her,” Iona claimed the other chair beside the warm fire, folding her legs under her and resting on one elbow. “I’ve got no idea.” Kate raised her hands and let them fall onto her thighs in defeat, “You know Axelia, she could be anywhere in the city by now.”   
“You mean with anyone, anywhere.” Iona corrected her.   
“That too, I suppose.” Kate sighed, “I’m starting to run out of excuses to tell father and the court. Alexia doesn’t seem to realise that like it or not, what she does, reflects on all of us. Father included, right down to you and I, Iona.” Kate leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and tucking her fists under her chin as she starred into the fire, “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep her ridiculous actions out of father’s view and more importantly out of Edric’s view.”   
“Maybe you should stop protecting her, Kate.” Iona shrugged at the shocked look her sister gave her.   
“If father knew the half of what she gets up to, he’d disown her Iona.” Kate turned to watch the fire, gazing into the flickering orange depths, “I can’t do that to her, not to mention what it would do to father and mother, or the kingdom if one of the royal princesses were disowned and disavowed.”  
“Maybe she’ll grow out of it then, after all, there can’t be that many more things for Axelia to get involved with,” Iona suggested, “Maybe Prince Theron will finally ask for her hand and she’ll be his concern, rather than ours.”   
Kate snorted softly, “Prince Theron is almost as bad as Axelia is. They’d certainly make a fine pair. No town would be safe.” Iona chuckled in agreement and they both turned to see Tess pushed open the internal door and joined them, sitting on the arm of her sister’s chair.   
“Has anyone heard where Axelia is yet?” the youngest sister inquired.   
Iona’s fair head shook, “Not yet Tess.”   
“Are you sure she didn’t say anything to you about what she was doing when you two went down into the horse training courtyard this morning?” Kate asked for the third time today. “No Kate. I already told you. We went down there but that man, the new one that Axelia thought was cute,”   
Kate rolled her eyes at Tess’s irrepressible ability for somehow draw men, cuteness and or possible romantic involvement into every single conversation regardless of its initial subject matter. “He was cute Kate, you have to admit that.” Tess continued, “Anyway when we got there he’d already left to take that smelly beast into the stable and Teldin wouldn’t let us follow him, so Axelia left me and went find her stable hand friend from last night. I came back upstairs to start my new dress fitting for the ball. I don’t know where she went after that, I swear.” A light knock sounded at the chamber’s main door.   
“Yes?” Kate called watching as Leyton, her oldest and most trusted advisor stepped inside.  
“Excuse me your majesties,” He bowed slightly, “I didn’t realise that Princess Iona and Princess Tess were in your company. Please forgive me, I’ll return to report to you later.” The grey haired servant turned to leave.   
“No, No, Leyton. Tess and Iona are fully aware of Axelia’s situation. They’re here helping me worry.” She smiled and waved him back towards her, “Did you find anything Leyton?”   
“Yes ,my lady, but alas, I could not convince her to return with me to the keep. I did try, your majesty.” He apologetically reported, “She was…” He paused trying to find a tactful way to report to his beloved princess exactly what her younger sister had been up to, “She was otherwise indulging in the local beverage at an inn.”   
Kate shook her head, covering her eyes with one hand, “Which inn, Leyton, and who was she with?” The old man took a deep breath and sighed, “The Smithy’s Inn, on the southside, near the old bridge and stables.”   
“Good grief Leyton, if father gets wind of this he’ll be furious.” Her voice sounded tired as she cradled her head in her hands, “Do you think anyone realised that they had a princess at their establishment?” “No, your majesty.” Leyton shook his head and looked at his hands as they twisted together, “She was dressed like a common peasant and in the company of that young stable hand boy. I don’t think anyone was aware of her birthright.”  
“Thank the gods for small mercies,” Kate murmured as she moved back in the chair and rested her head against its solid wooden back, “What do you suggest I do Leyton?” She looked up at the older servant, her younger blue eyes searching his wise grey ones for an answer, “Should I send a cohort of royal guard to go out and drag her back here tonight?”   
“My lady,” Leyton’s deep voice held a slightly admonishing tone, “While the guard could possibly get her back into the keep rather quickly by force, I do not know if your sister would do so in a quiet manner, nor in manner that would keep her identity as undisclosed as it currently is.”   
Kate sighed deeply, knowing what her advisor was saying was correct. Axelia could make one heck of scene if she put her mind to it, one certainly loud enough for the entire tavern and most of the surrounding houses to witness. So the guard idea was now out of the question.   
“We could go and get her?” Tess excitedly suggested, “She might listen to you and we might stand a chance of getting her home with raising a whole lot of fuss. No one would even have to know she was ever out of the keep.”   
“Tess,“ Kate warned her sister, “This is not an opportunity for some grand adventure, do you have any idea what father would do if he found out that not one, which he already suspects by the way, not one, but all four of the royal princess were out wondering the city, in the middle of the night, like some peasant street urchins?” Kate stood and began pacing back and forth in front of the fire  
“It would be most unwise for all of you to be out in the city after dark and unescorted.” Leyton stated quietly. Tess predictably pouted as all chances of a late night adventure seemed to be evaporating. “It would probably be best if you were to assign one of the royal guards to watch over Princess Axelia and let her return of her own accord, Princess.” The older advisor suggested.   
“Whenever that might be. Knowing Axelia, it may well be not until sunrise.” Iona added, “Can we wait that long?” Leyton watched as Kate stopped her pacing and turned to watch the fire, clearly considering all of her options, silently running through all the available plans of action. Finally she turned, “I think that would be best, Leyton, would you see to it?”   
“Of course your highness.” He bowed and quietly retreated back through the main door.  
“You’re not really going to leave her out there all night are you?” Tess asked, going to stand by her sister. “Why not?” Kate tiredly sighed, “She obviously wants to be there Tess, nothing we can do about it.”   
“Aren’t you even the least bit curious, to know what’s she’s doing?” Tess conspiratorially whispered, “To know what she’s doing and who she had managed to catch this time. I’d love to know what goes on in the taverns around the city.” Kate did have to admit that she was a little curious as to what exactly her sister found so appealing in always breaking the rules or having some young man falling over himself to get her attention which usually lead to further breaking of rules, like being in a tavern at all hours of the night. But Kate was heir to the throne and curiosity mattered not.  
It was not allowed to.   
She had to be responsible.   
She always had to be responsible.   
Mentally she sighed and then answered, “Maybe I am curious Tess, but we are royalty here and someone in this family has to be at least half way responsible and show some sort of royal decorum.”  
“What if she’s right Kate?” Iona supplied quietly from her seat, “Can we really afford to leave Axelia out there all night?”   
“You can’t be serious Iona?” Kate’s voice held a note of incredulousness, “Going out into the city at this time of night would be stupid at best and if we were spotted and father found out, we’d all be in extremely deep trouble and you know that Iona.”   
“I know that Kate,” Iona stood and laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder, “But how much trouble will be caused if while Axelia is out there, left to her own devices, she really does something stupid this time?” Kate considered that for a moment. True, if they went out and were discovered, after the mood her father had been in at dinner, they would all certainly feel the full force of her father’s legendary temper. King Faradin was known as a good ruler and usually saved his temper only for those who truly deserved it. Kate and her sisters had been afforded every kindness at they were growing up, the only thing their father had insisted strongly upon was that his children, the royal princess, no matter whatever else they did, they must always, always, ensure that their royal name was never brought into disrepute. They were to act like the royalty they had been born to. So, running around the city, unescorted, dressed like peasants, in the middle of the night would most definitely be frowned upon by both the extremely influential royal court and her parents. They would all collectively throw a fit if they were caught.   
On the other hand, if Kate did stay here and Axelia really did do something serious, then that would be equally disastrous. She had arranged for a guard to watch over her sister but knowing Axelia’s extraordinary ability to escape even the most vigilant of overseer’s eyes, no matter how protective or dedicated they were, Kate wasn’t overly confident that a guard would keep Axelia out of serious trouble. So this is what it meant to rule? To have to make choices and decisions when both had their downfall? Kate looked at Iona’s far too trusting brown eyes and Tess’ far to curious green ones, knowing that both looked to her to make the decision to keep them all out of trouble. She was damned if she went and damned if she stayed. Either way she felt sure she would be explaining her sister’s actions and her decisions to the royal court tomorrow.   
Finally she drew a large breath and shook her head, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” She looked from Iona to Tess and back again. “You two had better be ready to stand beside me, in front of the royal court and suffer whatever reprimands, lectures and punishments I do, because,” she pointed at them both, “I think this is a very bad idea which I know I’m probably going to live to regret and I have absolutely no intention what so ever of walking out on this limb alone.” Tess smiled, glad to be finally doing something she regarded as reckless. Iona, nodded in support of her elder sibling, knowing that, if this did go wrong, Kate would be the one to bear the brunt of their father, standing together would make a good show, but ultimately, Kate would be alone, she could see that clearly echoed in her sister’s blue eyes, despite the words she had spoken. “Don’t worry Kate, We’ll wear our long cloaks and stay off the main thoroughfare,” Iona commented, “No one will be out at this time of night anyway.”   
“I’m going to go get my cloak, I’ll meet you both in the courtyard.” Tess said as she trotted out excitedly, leaving both sisters signing and shaking their heads.   
“She is going to be insufferable out there tonight you realise?” Iona crossed her arms over her chest.  
“This had better work Iona, or we are going to be in serious trouble.” Kate stood and walked to retrieve her long dark cloak from its hanging peg by the main door, “Come on,” She pulled on the cloak and flicked it’s dark hood over her head, “Let’s get this thing over and done with.”   
It was very quiet as three heavily cloaked figures hurried along the empty cobblestoned street. Just another few turns and they should be at the tavern that Leyton had last reportedly seen Axelia in. They’d been lucky so far that the streets had been mostly empty, save only for one drunken man they’d encountered as he staggered, presumably towards his home, but judging from the state he appeared to be in, Kate doubted if he’d even been able to remember his own name much less where exactly he lived. They rounded the corner and walked along the street passing by the old stables, once used to house all the animals that passed through Mytholinius, but now only serving to house those travellers who patronized the nearby inn. “Just stay together and let me do all the talking.” Kate whispered, “The last thing we need is for one of you two to cause a scene.” All three turned to look at the inn as the muffled sound of laughter and cheering drifted to their ears. As they walked closer, they watched as the inn door opened and disgorged a group of men, some of them barely able to stand up, being half carried, half dragged by their drinking buddies.  
“Good grief!” Tess blurted, unaccustomed to seeing such public drunkenness.  
“Ssshh!” Kate and Iona hissed at the same time.  
“I can’t help it. Have you ever seen anything like that before?”  
“Just be quiet.” Kate snapped, “Tomorrow, you and Axelia can spend all day gossiping about tonight’s adventure, but for now, just be quiet!” They crossed the street, stopping on the sturdy wooden porch outside and turning to look through the clouded paned window. They could barely make out the darkened shapes that they knew to be people moving about. A round of loud ribald comments startled them and the three onlookers all unconsciously, collectively took a step backwards.  
“Oh my..” Iona murmured as her brain comprehended exactly what her ears had realized, “Is that even humanly possible?” She turned her brown eyes to meet her sister’s in question. Kate covered her eyes and hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt, “I have absolutely no idea.”  
“Maybe we shouldn’t go in?” Iona suggested, her nerves beginning to weaken, “Maybe Axelia isn’t even in there?” The words had barely left her lips when a much higher pitched, but equally as loud guffaw of laughter emanated from the inn, followed by another round of much deeper laughter, complete with several sets of impressively disgusting comments and whistling. Kate shook her head and turned to face her sisters, “Alright, you two stay here. I’ll get Axelia and then we’re getting the Hades out of here.” She pulled her cloak hood a little further over her head and prepared to step through into what was looking more and more like another world.


	6. Perfect

Johnathon had packed the last of his saddle bags and was making his way across the now very crowded inn. It was busy, despite the late hour and looking around at the various groups, Johnathon could tell that most patrons were happily indulging in the local ale. “You’ll be leaving then?” the burly looking barkeep asked as he wiped down the well-worn timber that he was leaning on. Johnathon nodded, not offering any further explanation. A loud thud drew their attention and Johnathon turned around in time to see a large muscular man land heavily on the planked floor, the remaining members of the large group, slapping each other on the back and laughing at their downed companion, who was slowly collecting himself up from the floor.  
“That keeping you busy?” Johnathon inquired, crossing his arms and leaning back on the bar.  
“Aye.” The larger man sighed, “Been in here since early on tonight, drinking up a storm, but coin is coin.” They were noisy and rowdy but, so far at least, they seemed to be keeping to themselves, although, Johnathon privately wondered how much longer that would be the case. The distinctly high pitched sound of a woman laughing drifted from the large group, followed by a small scuffle between two of the larger men on the outer edge of the circle. One pushed the other and before they knew it, what had started out as a friendly shove, was rapidly developing into something far more serious.   
“Looks like I spoke to soon,” the barkeep said as he thumped a large cylindrical piece of wood on the bar top. He moved out from behind the bar, newly acquired weapon in his hand, the barkeep and Johnathon watched as a young peasant girl seemed to part the crowd of men and stride to the outer edge of the group, a good looking young man staggering along beside her, each one half supporting the other. The fighting men, stopped for a moment as the young woman appeared to speak to them, ending the conversation with a very unsteadily pointed finger at both of the men, promptly causing the group to simultaneously burst into great rounds of hysteric laughter. Apparently, the two men who had been fighting failed to see the same humour as the young couple and started their hard shoving again, steadily drawing in others from the now surging group.  
“Damn women!” The bartender growled and started towards them, punches, flying furniture and bodies starting to cross his path. The young couple staggered back towards a large window, still laughing but barely able to stand. Johnathon watched for a few moments, silently debating whether or not to get involved. The burly barkeep started pushing forward, separating fighting pairs and pushing potential enemies apart. Johnathon had all but decided that the barman had everything under control, when he saw a particularly large and very drunk man, shout across to the young girl’s partner. “Share her around, you little runt!” He bellowed, “Surely she isn’t satisfied with the like of you!”  
“Shut your face you drunken fat slob!” The peasant girl slurred, “You may be stronger but Jacob has much more stamina!”  
“Why you little tease!” He roared, lurching forward.  
“Oh boy..” Johnathon sighed and moved to intercept him, “Now hold on there.” He reached the pair just in time to stand to block the man’s path, the girl at his back. The man was huge, topping Johnathon by at least a hand.  
“Get out of the way boy!” he yelled and tried to push passed Johnathon, “Ain’t nothing to do with you.”  
“Can’t do that.” The blond man stated calmly, readying himself for the fight he knew would be coming, “Wouldn’t be right. Why don’t you have another drink and let these two be on their way?” Pushed beyond the point of a rational thought by the considerable amount of ale he’d consumed, the huge man decided that he’d had about enough of the whole talking thing, he was bruising for a fight now. At first he’d been intent on squishing that little runt that had been with that woman, but no matter, this interfering stranger would do just the same. He surged forward, charging Johnathon with impressive pace for a large man. Johnathon shoved the drunken couple to one side and he had just enough time to steady and tense himself as the huge man launched his entire bulk directly at his body. There was no way Johnathon had any chance of dodging the man and certainly no way of stopping the moving hulk except to take the hit as the large man hit him, pushing him backwards and through the clouded glass window, shattering the thick panels and landing heavily on the planks outside with a thud, using the larger man’s momentum to swing him over and push him away with his legs. Johnathon shook his head, clearing the momentary disorientation and leapt to his feet, ready in case his large attacker wanted to continue the fight. A soft gasp made Johnathon spin around, only to find himself standing in front of three cloaked figures, obviously women, who were standing so close together it was a wonder to Johnathon that they weren’t all sharing the same coat.  
“Oh my goodness!” Tess said breathlessly only to be shushed by both her sisters, as all three of them took a step back. Johnathon’s brow’s knit as he tried to figure out what these three women were doing standing outside an inn, since clearly from their behaviour and the somewhat shocked look on their faces, they didn’t belong anywhere near the inn. He didn’t have time to investigate further when out of the corner of his eye he noticed that his attacker had recovered from his flight through the window and having spied Johnathon, was collecting himself up for another run at the blond man. He charged towards Johnathon again, this time fuelled by pure embarrassed rage combined with the ale flowing through his blood, putting every ouch of his considerable weight behind him. Johnathon had two things going for him, one, he was certainly much fitter, leaner and a good deal more agile than his robust attacker and two, he wasn’t drunk.  
The larger man had almost reached Johnathon when he tripped, stumbling over his feet, getting them caught on the lip of the step and tumbling headlong towards the shattered window. Johnathon waited until the last moment and then neatly ducked, letting his large friend’s momentum send him rocketing back through the window and into a sea of sweating, angry bodies. Then Johnathon was up, jumped the sill easily, landing inside and promptly punched the large man in the head, rendering him unconscious. His intelligent blue eyes quickly scanned the disorderly interior of the inn, searching for the young man and woman who first started this whole thing. He gradually worked his way through the inn, dodging the now myriad of mistimed punches and drunken stumbling, somewhat angry bodies towards the pair, who were crouching down on the floor, laughing and sloppily demolishing another tankard of ale.  
“Women.” Johnathon growled to himself as he smacked away an offending fist that was headed his way. He reached the giggling couple and grabbed the young man by the shoulders, bodily hauling him to his feet. “Get yourself out of here now!” he shouted above the din, shoving the boy towards the door.  
“ Bbbut … waiitt.. what aboutt Axey” he slurred, stumbling towards the door and reaching back for the still drinking Axelia, who looked like she was way past the point of oblivion. “Just go, I’ll get her out.” Johnathon gave the hapless boy one last shove, sending him sprawling out towards the door, only to fall about two feet short and landing with a thud, the inn door having been opened at the exact wrong time, swinging inward and ramming into the downed boy’s head, knocking him out cold. Johnathon sighed and reached back, grabbing Axelia by the arm and dragging her upright. “Get you hands off me” she slapped at his hands, “Do you know who you’re grabbing?” She hiccupped and swayed unsteadily.  
Kate almost tripped over the prone body lying at her feet, but even over the din inside, she was able to hear her sister’s voice, cringing at the declaration she was about to make to the tall, blond ruffian Kate had seen thrown through the window earlier. “I don’t care who you are, you’ve got to move.” Johnathon snapped, hauling Axelia around in front of him and pushing her towards the door. He stopped momentarily when he noticed one of the cloaked women he’d seen outside, standing looking at him nervously, her face almost obscured by the hooded cloak. Recognizing her sister and recognizing that she needed to get her out of here unidentified and as quickly as possible, Kate swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and stepped forward. “I’ll take her with me.” Kate’s voice was shaky but she saw the blond man hesitate for a second before thrusting Axelia towards her.  
“Be my guest.” He growled and deposited his struggling burden into Kate’s waiting arms. She grabbed her sister and took off, dragging Axelia through the door and out into the chilled air.  
“What do you think you’re doing!” Kate hissed walking quickly and leading Axelia away from the inn as swiftly as she could.  
“Lo Kate!” Axelia said cheerfully, “What are you doing here?” Her ale riddled mind already forgetting the young stable hand and the fighting in the inn. Kate just kept walking, “Be quiet Axelia and keep moving.” She looked back over her shoulder at the inn, silently hoping that no one would follow them and that no one had recognised exactly who they were. So far, so good. The street was mostly empty, but Kate could clearly hear the unmistakable sound of furniture breaking and the tell-tale sounds of men fighting. She just hoped that Tess and Iona had done what she’d asked and stayed hidden around the corner of the adjoining old stable, out of sight and more importantly out of trouble. The last thing she needed was for those two to have been caught up in this whole thing.  
“Slllow down Kate.” Axelia whined, “What’s the hurry? You want some ale?” She thrust a half empty bottle up in front of Kate’s face.  
“Put that away.” Kate took the bottle and walked faster, seeing two cloaked heads peering anxiously around the far corner of the darkened stable. “Ohhh,” Axelia sounded cheerfully, “Are we going to get the guard?”  
Kate’s dark brows knit, “What guard?” she asked as she reached her two sister’s hiding spot.  
“Tess!!!!!” Axelia spied her favourite younger sister, “At last, someone to drink with!” She started patting her body, looking for the bottle that Kate had already taken. Tess couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing at the dishevelled state of her sister. “Tess.” Ion nudged her sister’s ribs, seeing the stormy look in Kate’s blue eyes, “Here, let me help.” Iona grabbed one of Axelia’s arms and wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist. They all stopped when a deep rumble filled the air, as thunder rolled ominously overhead and Kate felt the first thick heavy drops fall.  
“Great.” Kate sighed, wondering what else could possibly go wrong.  
“I don’t feel so well.” Axelia chimed, her legs buckling and her head hanging low.  
And as if on cue, the heaven’s opened, heavy raindrops pelting down on them.  
“Perfect.” Kate murmured, “Just perfect.”


End file.
